Round the World

I actually kind of feel guilty about how little of Uganda I have seen. I don't really know why, but I just kind of worked out that way. For a while, I seem to have developed a kind of traveling apathy, probably brought on by my constant need to return to certain establishments, and so preventing freedom of thought and hope. I think that has only just been worked out of my system by the Western fringes of East Africa. And yet there is so much of note to see here. And now I have no time left to see it. Lake Bunyoni, for example, is somewhere I really wanted to see, and I was barely 8km from it when I was in Kabale, yet i didn't realise that until too late in the day to make a trip really feasible.

And now, coming back from Rwanda I am due back at a wonderful Nairobi institution (yes, sarcasm) in only a couple of days so don't have time to stop off there. But I did manage to stop in Jinja. It was as much to break up the journey from Kigali to Nairobi as anything else, I spent a night there. It also slightly helped offset the fact that I had to pay 50usd for another Ugandan visa and didn't want to essentially spend that just to sit on a bus bouncing across the country.

Jinja's main claim to fame is as the source of the Nile (although even that is disputed: Whilst Jinja certainly has a source of the Nile, and the most impressive one in terms of scale, Burundi claims a source further south, and Rwanda claims the longest and so true source), but to backpackers it is home to some of the best white water rafting in the world. And after arriving late at night and having a boda-boda rider try and con me mercilessly, the following morning i watched with amusement as vast hordes of mostly very young looking, excited and hungover white people headed off to drown, before leaving me with a hostel pretty much to myself.

Above, me at the source of the Nile, although i couldn't tell you why i seem to look so unhappy. Below, what many backpackers take to be the true source of the Nile...

Jinja is actually a very pleasant if slightly odd town. Granted it was a Sunday so many things were shut, but it was one of the few places I have been where there has been no hassle at all (well, if you ignore boda-boda riders) - nobody tries to sell you things, and there are no beggars around. Astonishingly, this was even the case in the small area of tourist shops and curio sellers, who apart from the occasional 'hello' ignored all the daft mzungu's who were looking around. Being allowed to browse curio shops without hassle and strong selling is so strange and such a novelty in East and Southern Africa, that it is pretty much outside of my comprehension.

Looking downstream from the source of the Nile. The really impressive – and kind of unexpected thing – is that this is taken 200m from the source of the worlds longest river, and look at how flippin wide it already is!

The town is built on a kind of small peninsula between the end of the River Nile and Lake Victoria, so you are surrounded by water, and I ambled happily along the long wide residential roads, dotted with spacious if generally sadly dilapidated looking colonial style houses, and it was all very pleasant. I wandered down to the Lake, went and overlooked the source of the Nile and even found a little cafe with a great book swap. And even came across one of our 3stalkers from Southern Africa, Leslie (the boys were off doing energetic sounding things on Mt. Kenya), for the first time since Lusaka, and w happily caught up (since we had last crossed paths, amongst much else they had played on a swanky Zimbabwean golf course, been in a bad auto accident whilst hitching in Mozambique and had a bag stolen on a Malawian ferry).

Though wishing i had more time to explore the outskirts, including some apparently beautiful waterfalls only a few km out of town, I was quite happy with a lazy day of walking, and more than happy that i had decided to split my journey there. There was was an element of sadness, and pretty much all it has done is reinforce my thinking that I have not done Uganda justice, and thus must return.

I haven't put up any signs for a few posts no, so i figured it was about time I did. The first one is, obviously, right next to the police station (Tway, and other grammar Nazi's note that a far as I am aware, George W. Bush's war on terror did not extend to spelling terror), whilst the shop below was selling cleaning products, and whilst I'm sure Jesus was a believer in hygiene, I don't think he mentioned Domestos during many of his most famous speeches

Of all the days for my camera to die, this was not an ideal one. I was standing on top of a glorious lava flow, with the remains of several houses to be seen, some at the second or third story and unable to take any photos to share with you all. When Mount Nyiragongo erupted in 2002, Goma – a town which has had its share of problems over recent years, to say the least – it was mercifully not a Magmatic eruption. Instead, most locals were able to escape the oncoming devastation simply by slowly walking to safety (though there were casualties), though not without huge devastation to property and infrastructure as the lava slowly ran through the town – straight down the main street – and eventually into Lake Kivu. It could have been much, much worse.

Even now, 7years later, much of the town still has coverings of ash, and smaller roads and footpaths are now cooled lava flows instead of sand or tarmac. The smell of volcanic matter hangs around, and the further out of town you go towards the volcano, the deeper the lava flows and more destruction that is in evidence. Seeing people living or selling out of single story shops is fairly normal for Africa, until you suddenly realise that these are the top floors of what were originally 3story buildings. Everything lower down has been buried in lava and ash and lost forever.

I was in Congo (the hopefully named 'Democratic Republic of Congo' – it's not really Democratic and is barely a Republic - or Zaire for all you old people out there, as opposed to the Brazzaville version) on a quick side trip for Rwanda. After a very pleasant evening spent in Gisenyi on the Rwandan side with an Irish aid worker from Sudan (Stephen) and a Ugandan trader living in Dubai and Hong Kong, the following morning Stephen and I had ambled up to the border and – if you ignore some very dubious practices on the behalf of somebody who was not me – got Congolese visas with surprising ease.

I had come partly for the nerd in me: I have a deep interest in geography and geology, and the chance to see a town half covered in the remains of a volcano in this way was too much to turn down. Besides, i had promised to come and talk to some people about a possible job, whilst Stephen – who i had first met in Kampala – also had some old colleagues in town, so we had people able to show us round and tell us a bit about what is going on.

DR Congo is not a fun place. It is an absolutely massive country, with obscene amounts of natural resources, yet no infrastructure, huge poverty, civil unrest and corruption and with a horrific history (from its origins as King Leopald's personal fiefdom, to official Belgian colonial rule to independence and the ensuing chaos). Atrocities continue to occur daily in what is basically a lawless 'country', home to the UN's largest ever peace keeping force. And there is nothing even vaguely resembling safety or security.

Goma is at least theoretically safer than most places in the country, but that is not really saying much: It is still horribly dangerous, especially after dark. At least half of the vehicles either belong to aid agencies or are armoured UN trucks. The front lines are barely outside the city, there is no land transport anywhere except over the border I had just come across. Hearing gunfire is a daily occurrence. So are attacks, rapes, murders and other atrocities. And another one of the local volcanoes is expected to erupt at any moment, though hopefully and theoretically it shouldn't really affect the town too badly. Finally, the massive UN and aid presence means it is one of those sorts of towns I often dislike intensely due to it's polarisation: UN etc camps that always have electricity, blazing lights and noise when the rest of the country may have nothing at all, and restaurants which charge in USD and are priced towards those with expense accounts, whilst the local population struggles by on annual amounts less than the cost of the average meal. But against that, the people were all very friendly, and i felt in no way threatened wandering around during daylight.

Goma is also a place of obvious signs of some hope: Near the lake, we were treated to the very strange sight of intense building work going on on a large number of large houses being erected there. Whilst these are very obviously not designed for the average local, and pretty much scream 'corruption' at you, the fact that so many houses were under construction means that some people at least feel comfortable enough in the local situation to be willing to invest some hefty sums of money in the town. On such small notes, optimism must lie.

The job offer was interesting but not something that is of any real use to me, whilst the nearby Mountain Gorilla's i reluctantly decided i would still have to miss, despite the availability of permits the following day for a smaller cost than in neighboring Uganda and Rwanda: I realised that I just wasn't in good enough condition to hike through the jungle and up mountains, much though i would have loved to, and the shared genetic matter also means shared diseases, and i didn't want to be personally responsible for killing off the gorillas because of some small medical issue.

And so it was that I crossed back into Rwanda, both more enlightened and saddened than i had previously been, happy to have had the opportunity and contacts to show me around, but saddened even more by the current state of play and fate of the poor helpless locals.

It's not much, I know, but this is Lake Kivu, and the only photo I managed to take before the battery died completely. Apart from that, there are some photos here if you wish to look

“When they said 'never again' after the holocaust, was it meant for some people an not for others?” [Apollon Katahizi]

In a way, it all comes down to a point of Belgian administration.

Bl**dy paperwork.

Sadly though, I must admit that my local knowledge is not as good as it should be. I had long laboured under the idea that the Hutus and Tutsi's were ancient tribes, possibly bearing a timeworn grudge. Though there is some grain of truth in that – they were 2 of 18 smaller groups, and date back to the 10th or 11th century at least – it never really mean't anything on the grand scheme of things. It was only later that the groups become formalised that things go messy. The Hutu and Tutsi divide which caused so much pain, grief, suffering and death in Rwanda – and Burundi as well – was basically an invention of colonial Belgian administration: when the Belgians brought in identity cards in 1931 for exact reasons that i am unsure of, they decided to split the population into different groups: Tutsi's (or those that owned more than 10 cows) and Hutu's. The seeds were sown. And In neighbouring Burundi - once part of the same Belgian colonial system and with a similar ethnic breakdown, over 200,000 Hutu's died in a 1972 genocide and civil war between Tutsi's and Hutu's in Burundi has been on and off for over 60years.

The Rwandan National Genocide Memorial in Kigali

I am too depressed to write too much about the Rwandan genocide or it's memorial here: Besides, there are plenty of other much better sources of information out there. But I feel that I have to comment a little on the National Genocide Memorial in Kigali. If you ignore the complete lack of signposting from anywhere in town and even nearby, it was very well done. In basic terms, in under 100 days (it was that quick) over 1million people were dead, and millions more displaced. The UN commander in Rwanda was denied a mandate to intervene and had no force to speak of and the French force that did arrive at one point are horribly implicated in many atrocities, at least as accomplices. And the propaganda machine was at its most horrifically efficient: what most observers note as the single most horrific aspect of the whole horrible episode was the fervor in which ordinary Rwandans – men women and children – seemed to happily hack up and kill other Rwandans, often former neighbors, friends or even family members.

Each of these simple – but large- concrete blocks covers a mass grave, the names of majority of whom will forever remain unknown

All i will do here is just mention a couple of 'small' snippets that particularly affected me. I think that one small paragraph and photo on a side wall was the single most devastating memory to me. It described a Christian priest who ordered the bulldozing of a church with 2000 people inside. He destroyed his own church and massacred his own congregation out of some perverse 'tribal' loyalty. In the children's gallery, large pictures of children were notated with how they died: two siblings of 2years and 6months ere killed when a grenade was thrown into their bathroom. And outside amongst the mass graves – this is not just a memorial site – there was a black wall, maybe 100metres long. A section was filled with small type of the names of dead Rwandans. The rest of it was eerily blank: so many of the bodies remain unidentified. Other people might be more moved by some of the heroic personal tales , or the room of skulls, or personal items and clothing found in mass graves. Everybody is different. But everybody agrees that it was a horrific episode of the very worst of human kind.

That evening I did pretty much nothing at all, except sadly sit with images and thoughts constantly playing on my mind, getting more and more depressed with how, well, everything, human nature can be sometimes.

A section of the names of Rwandans buried at the memorial wall

We must not forget. And we must not allow such atrocities to take place again. And that means anywhere in the world, and not just the areas which happen to be resource rich and thus the Western world actually cares about.

Rwanda is beautiful. There is no doubt about it. And whilst so far i would say that Burundi has the upper hand, Rwanda is not far behind at all, something that might come a a surprise to all those whose only knowledge of Rwanda is solely its horrific civil war fought in the early 1990's, and particularly the genocide atrocities of 1994. Paul Kagale seems to have done a very good job in rebuilding, reuniting and modernising this small country that suffered so much, and the people seem to be very positive for the future: Rwanda certainly seems very well placed. Interestingly though, Burundians that i talked to were a lot more pessimistic about Rwanda's future (expecting another civil war, probably sooner rather than later) than there own, despite the fact that their own horrific civil war – which receive significantly less attention in the west - lasted longer and ended much more recently

Kigali as a city is also quite pretty and forward thinking: I've already mentioned small touches like the plastic bag ban and the motorcycle helmet law, and the city itself feels very un-African like (eg: much of the friendly chaos is missing) and more European in a way.

The central point of Kigali, Plcae de l'Unité Nationale

Though I had spent a day here before my unexpected side trip to Burundi, I had cunningly arrived just before the 'Peace and National Unity Day' holiday, meaning everything was shut. I hadn't realised this beforehand (and the only guidebook I managed to glance at has it the following day anyway) and it was only wandering around the almost spooky deserted ghost town that Kigali, happily refreshed and ready for the world on that Saturday morning that I made this discovery. Thus it was that I hadn't been able to do either of the 2 things that I actually wanted to do it Kigali before i left. So i was glad to come back and try again. Even though i knew it would be horrific.

Sometimes you just have to do things that you really know you will not enjoy.

Central Kigali, perched on on one the many hills in the city, and showing some of the redevelopment and construction that is ongoing, as seen from the Genocide memorial

Burundi is absolutely stunning. In a way, i kind of wish that I had never come. That way at least, I would not have known what i was missing. As it was I was having to make do with barely 48hours and the promise to myself that I had to come back soon for a longer visit.

Oh, and i've also somehow picked up a book of Burundian proverbs, mostly from the Remesha women, so I intend to sprinkle a few in here as padding. You have been warned. Umugani ugana akariho (Proverb are used to tell the truth)

After the party I had petty much expected to spend the rest of my time in Bujumbura dealing with tiresome officials and trying not to pay any more in bribes than was absolutely necessary. But in a stunning break with tradition, my visa problem was solved in less than 20minutes. It would have been 2minutes if my French had been better. On arrival at the border at Kayanza Hut, I had been told that they didn't have any receipts left so couldn't give me a visa (or more accurately, accept payment). I had said that i didn't mind not getting a receipt, but the official had looked at me aghast and said that in the fight against corruption, he couldn't take my money without issuing a receipt. But he would stamp me in and I could pay and get a visa at the immigration office in Buj. At the time, part of me though 'wow, this is great' and part of me – probably the part used to dealing with Soviet style bureaucracy – thought 'oh sh1t'. But I was all fixed and sorted, and even had my bus ticket back to Kigali by 10am. And was then slightly at a loss as to what to do with myself.

Wanka kugarura impene ikiri hafi yamara kurenga imirambi ukabira nkayo (If you do not stop a goat at the proper time, you will bleat like it when it has gone beyond the mountain)

in terms of sights in Bujumbura, you are pretty much restricted to the main roundabout in town. But then again, you don't come to Bujumbura for the city sights

So i wandered around Buj. Whilst not containing any major landmarks or tourist attractions, Buj was not a bad city. It was quite small, stiflingly hot, and somewhat dusty, but with a glorious mountain backdrop and the lake just down the road, and although there were more beggars than i'd seen in a while, the general population seemed very relaxed and friendly: everybody i spoke to from the head of the Tourist Bureau** (who wished i could stay a week, and drove me to the immigration office as a personal favour) and the head of Immigration, to the hotel staff, waiters and assorted strangers in restaurants was extremely friendly. It seemed to simultaneously remind me of lots of places: a couple of French towns, parts of north Africa and Namibia, Lao and Vietnam. It was most odd, but definitely not unpleasant.

The Independence Monument in Bujumbura in Place de l'independance. or alternatively, WooHoo! - The Belgians have gone

Uburo bwinshi ntibugira umusururu. (Much wheat does not make good mush)

The two real places of tourist interest in Burundi (the rock where Stanley and Livingston met – disputed with Tanzania – and the source of the Nile, for which both Uganda and Rwanda also have valid claims) are both outside of town and i decided not to waste time and money trying to visit them. Instead I just wandered and took in as much of the atmosphere as I could. I wandered down to the Lake side, heading for a restaurant that turned out to be closed, but gave me the unexpected bonus of watching 2hippos play in the water barely 20metres away: I doubt there are many other Capital cities that have wild hippos in the city centre. Apart from that, i just relaxed in some of the small cafes in town and took amusement at some of the remaining Belgian influences in the shops: The food, the bakery/coffee culture and the availability in local supermarkets of Leffe and Hoegarden beers, for example, at prices cheaper than would be found in the UK whilst a box of Weetabix cost over 9gbp.

Akari mu nda y'umugabo gasohorwa n'akari mu uda y'umubindi (If you hide words in your stomach, don't drink from the beer mug). Oddly, a lot of the proverbs mention beer, but i've omitted the rest out here

Not a great photo, but it gives an idea of some of the mountains looming up behind Bujubura, as taken from my hotel room

None of that may sound particularly exciting. And in fairness, it really isn't. But what Buj lacks, the rest of the country makes up for it. Although I have only seen a very small portion of this country, what I have seen – beaches and bits of tropical paradise along the coast of Lake Tanganyika, and the absolutely glorious mountain vistas along with the brilliantly coloured local dress and Kanga's of the villagers from the road from Rwandan border – instantly move Burundi near the top of the most beautiful countries that i have ever been to. In fact, with it's setting and the rest of the country, if Buj had been a colonial or architecturally masterful city, it would have gone straight to the very top. And by all accounts, the bits of countryside that I have seen pale in comparison to other parts of this small mountainous country and the lakeside coat further south.

I can't wait to come back here.

Imbwa irinze itoboka ubuhnza ntiba yamenye inzugi nke. (A bald dog has broken many doors)

• Which is a good travelers proverb and, of course, means 'It is good to know where you are going and better to know where you will stay'. You can read whatever you want into the fact that I rarely have the foggiest idea about either one.

• * Yup, there are probably significantly less than 50 tourists currently in the country, and virtually all of them are just slightly adventurous backpackers on short 3day transit visas on their way between Rwanda and Tanzania. And yet Burundi has a fully functioning and very useful tourist office, albeit without much in the way of leaflets to take away.